


Silvo

by JustLyra



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 14:16:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2194911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLyra/pseuds/JustLyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Silvo were a top band; in their heyday Sebastian, Fernando, Kimi, Nico (H) and Jenson were on the cover of every magazine, on every television show and couldn't move without being followed by hordes of screaming girls. After several years apart when one of them decided to quit they are facing the media to announce their reunion tour. As old rivalries are reignited and they walk down an old path together with they all find, and make, the changes they desire? The question is, has anything changed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silvo

**Author's Note:**

> This is long, waffly, quite rushed and I wasn't happy with it (see the rushed bit), but hey ho - it got finished which was the final challenge. 
> 
> Thank you to the fabulous Bulletthestars for the artwork that accompanied it :)

  
Reunion  
  
Looking around the pokey waiting room, as the large conference room next door steadily filled up with journalists and photographers the five of them were lost in their own thoughts.  
Sebastian was rehearsing his words over and over in his head; still as fearful as ever of getting it wrong, being unpopular and getting a roasting from Helmut Marko, one of the head promoters, undoubtedly the most influential promoter, for RBR, their record label.  
Jenson was wondering about the impact the announcement would have on his family; now happily married to Jessy and a father of 3 he didn't need the money, and he certainly didn't need the fame, but the draw of being back on stage with the boys was just too big a pull.  
Nico was watching Fernando; their relationship had been public knowledge for two years and wasn't really big news anymore, but this was the first time they were out on stage with the news  _out_ , plus there was the Kimi factor.  
  
Fernando was silently fuming; the deal was supposed to be equal for all five of them. They'd been told they'd all get their chance in the limelight, but once again, as always, Sebastian had ended up getting the central role. His solo career had gone well and he wondered if he'd made a mistake in agreeing to the reunion.  
  
As for Kimi, well Kimi hated waiting, and he couldn't remember why he'd agreed to come back; most days he couldn't even remember why he'd ever agreed to sing the drivel that RBR declared as _songs_. Then he remembered the paycheck. He wasn't a slave to the cash, but point out any bloke who says he'd turn down £20 million for a 25 night tour and he'd point you out a liar...  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen please put your hands together for SILVO!"  
  
As the five trooped onto the stage the photographers sprung to life; moving from patiently waiting to clicking and firing flash guns in an instant. Questions were being fired at them before they'd even taken their seats and despite the long gap since the day one of them had stunned the others with the words "I'm leaving" which had lead to their hiatus the polished, precise smiles fell into place and the media-savvy, slick operation that was Silvo came back into being.  
  


*

  
Looking at the table Christian could only hope and pray bringing the band back together would work. When he first brought the band together people though he was mad, thought Helmut and Dietrich were mad for putting him in charge of a new band and thought his choice of the fiery Spaniard, posh Englishman, two Germans and the uncontrollable Finn was crazy. However, he'd proved them wrong. The band had worked and the walls of RBR were plastered with gold discs and awards to prove it.  
  
The breakup of the band had left the record label with a bit of a dry spell, and it was seen as Christian's fault for not managing the growing friction well enough. The new band they had in had teething troubles and just didn't work as well; for all that the Silvo boys fought like cat and dog _somehow_  they worked. Reunions didn't always work. Sometimes they worked spectacularly and sometimes they backfired big style. With Helmut watching his every move, almost daring him to damage Sebastian or RBR's reputations, he was under just as much pressure as the boys.  
  
Sebastian  
  
Looking along the row Seb could feel the glower behind Fernando's relaxed, smiling face. As he started to speak, announced their return to the fans he could feel the old worries creeping into his bones. He was the one in the middle, the one at the front, the one with the bulk of the glory yet it felt like only Helmut believed he belonged there. Smiling widely, his boyish good looks the reason that the powers that be always believed he should be at the front, he spoke jovially about the upcoming tour, about how excited the five of them were about being back on stage together again and that they were back. Silvo were back and as far as the world was concerned this was a good thing.  
  
Listening to hum of his own voice, the spiel programmed into his brain, his mind began to wander. One of the first times he felt the glare from Fernando was when they listened to their third single from their first album, Life Full of Corners.  
  
"What is this?!" Outraged at what he was hearing Fernando jumped up so quickly his chair crashed over, startling Kimi who'd been lulled almost to sleep with the repetitive playing of the tune all day.  
  
With his face steely Helmut had basically dismissed Fernando; Sebastian was singing the lead, he was in charge and he felt the band was better fronted 'at this time' by Seb and that was just the way it was. Opening his mouth to agree with his fiery Spanish bandmate only lead to Sebastian being hauled to Helmut's office. The dressing down about lack of ambition, ungratefulness and naivety left him red-faced and even less confident than ever. From then on he never questioned Helmut, just allowed himself to be moulded into the perfect band frontman; never answered back, spent hours signing autographs and spent every moment of the day behaving in accordance with the 25 page contract from RBR.  
  
"I agree with you."  
  
Standing next to Fernando in a hotel in Slovenia or Hungary or somewhere else where ordering food required pointing at photographs and hoping for the best Sebastian broached the subject that they were all experts at avoiding. Ignoring the sharp, pointed look he received he went on, explaining how he agreed that Fernando's voice would have been better for that part and that he thought Helmut was wrong. He should have stopped there; left it at that, but he didn't. He was a talker and he kept talking; talking about how he tried to make Helmut see, how it was just as difficult for him because he didn't want to be in a place that he shouldn't be in and the look got worse. As Fernando walked away after his two word retort Sebastian felt worse; deflated and defeated. Like he did on most days where something good turned out to be something not so good after all.  
  
"Boo hoo...."  
  
Sebastian had it all; a successful band, numerous magazine covers, awards, nice houses, holidays and a solo tour of packed out stadiums. After Silvo that success extended to his personal life - married to a beautiful blond who managed to perfect the narrow line between pretty model and girl-next-door. Somehow though there was still something missing. Something unobtainable. Something he couldn't buy.  
  
He could see it in their faces as he spoke. Helmut's frontman. Helmut's favourite. The one that _everyone_  knew wasn't the best. The one that somehow managed to be the most and least successful all at once.  
  
Jenson  
  
"She's looking forward to the presents I'm going to have to buy her to make up for leaving her on her own with the kids!"  
  
As the media, his bandmates and the inevitable hangers-on in the room all chuckled and he answered the inane questions about life as a band member with a family that he'd no-doubt have to answer hundreds of times over the next few months Jenson's mind began to wander.  
Everyone in the band had a public image; Seb was the favoured one loved by young girls and Helmut, Fernando was the fiery latino one, Nico was the cheeky one responsible for a never-ending series of practical jokes and Kimi was, well,  _Kimi_. Jenson's image had changed over the years. In the beginning he was the posh English one, not that he was particularly posh he just knew that keeping his accent in a certain way was his niche. Plus he liked suits and when it came to boy bands the posh one was usually in a suit....  
  
After a year or two on the road Jenson's reputation had been changed to that of 'ladies man' or 'playboy'. That reputation wasn't entirely fair, but unfortunately he didn't have Kimi's band of close friends occasionally willing to fuck him nor Nico's instinctive ability to spot someone untrustworthy. After a few drinks, the odd joke about his Martini and James Bond and he would spend most nights when he didn't have an early start the next day in bed with a woman. The succession of blonds and brunettes who sold their stories, some with sad faces and unfairly claiming to have been used and the ones, that he preferred if he had to have a choice, that bragged to the world about their night with Silvo's Jenson.  
  
Answering another question about his home life Jenson remembered the day he met Jessy. Flopping down onto the sofa after their album cover photo shoot Jenson sounded like a teenager in love, much to the amusement of the other boys.  
  
"I'm going to marry her."  
  
Sadly for Jenson Jessy had no intention of being another notch on his bedpost and rebuffed his advances, despite openly admitting liking him. Over the next two months Jenson bitched, moaned, cried, begged, pleaded and almost gave up hope of ever changing his image to the point that Jessy would consider dating him. Then it happened...  
  
Jenson's agent Mark, who he  _only_  employed because  _everyone_  thought Kimi would leave and he needed to be prepared just in case he needed a solo single because his mortgage was MASSIVE and he didn't want to be one of those sad cases being made bankrupt five minutes after the band split, had a party. He invited Jessy. Jessy  _finally_  gave him an hour of her time and that night she slept in his bed for the first time; and never went back to her flat other than to collect her stuff.  
  
They weren't all happy memories though, holding the little stick with the blue line and the blue cross trying to work out exactly what it meant. People talk about the moment they discovered they were going to be parents and they talk about 'excitement' or 'sheer happiness' or 'bliss'..... Jenson didn't feel any of those emotions, he felt terrified, pissed off, terrified, upset and terrified, and going by the look on Jessy's face she wasn't fairing much better.  
After lots of tears, raised voices, terror, 3 postponed trips to a clinic and 8 months of panic Jenson cried once more.... Having Jenna, his little princess Jen, changed his life in ways he didn't fully realise at the time. People believed that Jessy had trapped him, even after they looked at the glossy magazine wedding photos six months after she was born they didn't believe.  
  
Smiling warmly as he said that Jessy and the kids would join them on as many tour dates as possible Jenson finally realised himself. When he was young he thought he had it all; fame, fortune, fancy clothes and fans throwing themselves at him. Now however, with the ostentatious house swapped for a comfortable family home for Jen and her brothers Lexi and Lyon to play in, with his wife and his children he really did have it all.  
  
Nico  
  
Nico was probably the most nervous of all. He wasn't the best singer in the group, nor the best dancer. He didn't have the prettiest face and he wasn't the record label's favourite. He was also sat at the table watching the love of his life, the man he'd risked it  _all_  for, sitting next to his ex, who was everything Nico wasn't, and praying that they were strong enough to survive it.  
  
"He's half decent looking, his voice isn't bad and his height will work in photos. He'll do."  
  
Nico's start to the band wasn't the same as the others. He didn't wow the audition panel like the others had, but he was in and that was all that counted. In the early days he knew who he was wasn't good enough for Silvo so he changed it. The spray tan, clothes that he hated and various high-profile (but not so high to outshine anyone else) girlfriends kept him in the good books. He did the donkey work when it needed to be done; he'd be the one signing the Christmas annual in a stream of shopping centre bookshops while the others were on tv and radio promoting their Christmas single. If you won a prize for 'A day with a Silvo band member' it was with Nico that the, inevitably disappointed, winner spent the day.  
  
Hearing Fernando chuckle when Kimi answered a question in typical Kimi fashion it took all the years of training to keep the smile on his face and the shudder hidden. Nico had fallen in love with Fernando seven months after they met. The day he realised it was when Fernando was ranting and raving about the record label turning down the song he'd got out of bed at 3am to write because it was swimming around his head. Soothing Fernando with a calming hand on his shoulder as the Spaniard rested his head on Nico's shoulder Nico had a feeling in his stomach. Not clichéd butterflies, but one of bubbling rage because Nando was upset and when Nando got upset he usually ended up fucking Kimi.  
  
There were days were Nico hated Kimi. Kimi was rude. He smoked, not that Nico wanted to smoke, but if Nico did want to smoke he wouldn't have been allowed. He got drunk, missed rehearsals, swore on live tv to the mortification of presenters and most of all he fucked boys. When Nico had one of his 'plain jane' girlfriends the media used to comment that Nico would be imagining he was fucking a model, or that girl from the girl band they were determined he was in love with because _once_  he shared a taxi with her. They had no idea what he was truly imagining.  
  
That was the trade off for the life he was living. He'd get the money, build himself a secure pension and a nice nest egg and then once the band was over he could be true to himself. It was a great plan, a plan many people in the music industry had had before him. However that plan was thrown out the window twice; first when he fell in love with Fernando and secondly when Fernando kissed him after they won a Brit Award for the song written by Fernando that Nico had bullied Seb, Jenson and Kimi into insisting they release as a single.  
  
Since then there were many good moments with Fernando. The second kiss (which was the first where Nico wasn't so shocked he just stood moving his mouth like a goldfish), their first night together, moving in together....  
  
Near the end Nico had become disillusioned with the band. He wanted more from life than cheesy pop songs and endless stupid questions from people whose main aim was to work out who he was putting his dick in and he couldn't tell them that, actually, Fernando put his dick in Nico. However as Fernando talked about their recent trip to Africa, neither of them caring about people thinking 'rich musician visits poor kids cliché', to help build a school Nico finally accepted what Fernando had been saying for years.  _It was ok_.  
  
Everyone knew. Everyone knew that Nico liked boys and no-one cared anymore. The music world rolled their eyes, said 'big deal' and still judged him purely on the fact he couldn't sing as well as Fernando. Thinking about the sweet factory in his hometown, he knew he'd never have been courageous enough to come out if he'd stayed an ordinary boy living in an ordinary town listening to his parents ordinary friends talking in hushed scandalous tones about anyone who did anything other than "the norm".  
  
With a genuine smile Nico answered the question about the tour, "Nervous, but excited."  
  
Fernando  
  
Fernando smiled when he knew he should smile, he said all the right words when he needed to say them and he played the expected role. However, sat in that room Fernando suddenly couldn't remember why he'd agreed to the tour. He could hear  _Sebastian_  talking,  _Sebastian_  answering the important questions and talking about their music and the walls began to close in again.  
  
"It's all about fucking Sebastian," Throwing his jacket down Fernando was stomping around; more teenage tantrum that twenty-something megastar.  
  
Cracking an eye open Kimi frowned, "Who is fucking Sebastian?"  
  
"No-one is  _fucking_  Sebastian.... Forget it Kimi, just fucking forget it," Stomping some more Fernando raged around as he pulled clothes from the suitcase trying to finding something to wear that was actually his, rather than just another shirt made by someone who paid them to wear it.  
  
Moving from the bed, grudgingly, Kimi clamped his hands on Fernando's hips, "Stop stressing Ferri."  
  
"I cannot help it," Resting his head back onto Kimi, letting the circles being pressed into his hips relax him, "He infuriates me."  
  
Pressing his mouth to Fernando's ear Kimi breathed the words the Spaniard needed,  
"Everyone knows that you are better."  
  


*

  
As Christian explained the set up of the tour, multiple nights in huge arenas and stadiums, Fernando couldn't help thinking about his recent solo tour. Fifteen nights only, no extra nights booked but not announced, in small,  _intimate_ , venues with no grand set ups; just Fernando, his voice and his music. He sang songs that people raved about, that magazines called  _masterpieces_  and he knew that Helmut had turned them down.  
  
"It's not right for the band," Barely looking up the brusque Austrian dismissed Fernando.  
Stunned, and crushed, Fernando knew he sounded petulant, "But it's a great song. With Kimi on back up it'll...."  
  
"It is not right for Silvo," Interupting the cocky Spaniard Helmut shook his head, "Silvo sing catchy songs. Pop songs that the young people,  _the fans_ , love. Not.... this sort of thing."  
Walking out of the office Fernando bubbled with rage. Crossing the Track came to him in the middle of the night; it was a melancholic story of the inner conflict of someone who was in love with two people at once. It sold the heartache of wanting what was wrong for you despite it risking what was right in beautiful tones and Fernando had put his heart, and soul, into it.  
  
Looking along the line, catching Nico's flicker of concern, Fernando swallowed hard. He hadn't realised at the time that the song wasn't just a story, it was his story. The conflict was between his heart and his head. The words described him waking at 3am having dreamt about Nico; he dreamt about kissing Nico and loving Nico and he dreamt about hurting Nico by fucking Kimi.  
  
Kimi was like an addiction for Fernando. The first time he'd got drunk enough to fall into those steely eyes he hated himself for weeks afterwards. Having feelings for another man was bad enough, but allowing another man to put his hands, and his fingers,  _his tongue_  and his dick in the places Fernando had allowed Kimi to touch was wrong. Fernando worried that everyone would know, that they could tell what he'd done, but they didn't. The other band members soon learned; they'd have to be deaf and blind to miss Fernando's wails through thin hotel room walls in random cities and as just often as Kimi promised he wouldn't mark Fernando's golden skin he'd leave a finger shaped bruise or mouth shaped mark on a hip or shoulder. In the beginning Fernando would wait, have a few drinks and hope that Kimi would come to him and not a groupie or one of his friends, but before long he'd be the one seeking out the Finn needing something,  _anything_ , from him.  
  
Then there was Nico; kind and quiet, but tough and loyal. Everything Fernando knew he should want, and most of what he did want, but Nico wasn't Kimi. Nico wouldn't mark his body and consume him the way Kimi did and Fernando struggled to work out what to do.  
  
Kimi  
  
Raising an eyebrow, and quirking a smile, at the pretty journalist in the second row Kimi briefly wondered how many journos he'd fucked over the years. He remembered a few; the clingy ones mostly, but there was no chance of remembering them all amongst the groupies, casual fucks and occasionally more-than-one-time things. As the pretty girl blushed red and smiled back Kimi felt a little smug, it had been a long time since the band started and he was the wrong side of thirty, but he still had it.  
  
The only thing with journos was that you were never quite sure what they'd write about you after. Mostly they didn't write anything; you can't exactly write about how cheap and nasty Kimi is for having one night stands if you were the one on the other end of his dick.... However occasionally they did and those occasions were usually negative. Tearing his eyes away from her, bored of grief from his mother after pretty little things sung like canaries, Kimi sighed, loud enough for a smirking Jenson to hear, but not for Christian, who had long since got bored of Kimi's antics.  
  


*

  
"Kimi!" Christian's slightly posh tone was barbed with annoyance, "Kimi! Wake up now!"  
  
Opening one eye, wondering if sticking to vodka only would negate a hangover or not, Kimi growled, "What?"  
  
"You are in the paper again. You need to read it and then we'll work out our response."  
  
"Is she pretty? If she's not pretty, or kinky, then I didn't do it...."  
  
"Kimi. Get up now," Utterly exasperated, having had Helmut on the phone at 7.30am ranting and raving about how irresponsible and off the rails Kimi was, ranting in a way that suggested Christian was failing in his managerial role, Christian whipped the cover off the bed, "Meeting room, third floor, five minutes."  
  
Groaning, the light too strong for his eyes and the air con too cold for his body, Kimi sat up and glared at his manager, "What's breaking your balls?"  
  
"Helmut," Glaring, knowing the shitstorm that was about to come down on him, Christian stared Kimi in the eye, "He's not best pleased about your latest conquest,  _Fabio_ , selling details about you that one someone who'd seen you naked could know."  
  
Not yet knowing that Fabio had detailed the small scar on the inside of Kimi's thigh, the one that only those who knew about his skiing accident (and how close he'd come to speaking even higher) or those who'd been very close to his groin knew about, Kimi smirked as the name instantly brought back the image of the beautiful, young, Italian man who sank down on his dick in one go after putting on a glorious show of opening himself up, "Oops."  
  


*

  
"I'm sure it'll be fun, we always enjoy ourselves together," Answering another mundane question Kimi smiled. Internally he frowned at Nico's narrowed eyes, before shaking his head very slightly at the realisation that the German  _still_  worried about him and Fernando. For the both of them that period of their lives were long since over. Since Fernando, Kimi had had two live in boyfriends; one that everyone knew about. Jarkko was by his side for 18 months and had lived with him for most of that time, until the night they were sat playing the x-Box together and they realised that they were friends who fucked - not that there was anything wrong with that, but it wasn't a relationship anymore. It was all very amicable, Toni still had a key and would look after the dogs while Kimi was on tour.  
  
Kimi's next two lovers were very different. The first was different because he was a secret. Secrets were tough for Kimi, he was quiet and people misconstrued that as secretive, but in reality he was a very open person. If you were his friend, or relation, then you knew pretty much everything about him. He didn't ever have shame about his life; people knew he smoked, people knew he made a fool of himself when he was drunk and people knew that he liked boys and girls. However, Anthony was a politician. More than that he was a politician in a country that wasn't fantastic when it came to being as accepting as they said they were. So after a succession of rows, that always lead to falling into bed, Kimi had accepted it; they were a secret. For 10 months they were a successful secret, but then the resentment kicked in.  
  
They couldn't go out for dinner because  _someone might see_. They couldn't get drunk and sing bad karaoke together because  _someone might see_. They couldn't hold hands or be too close in public because  _someone might see_. In effect they couldn't be them because  _someone might see_. Kimi wanted to chuck it all in, he had enough money, houses and cars for them all, but Anthony couldn't, _wouldn't_ , chuck it in. He wanted his job and he wouldn't risk it. In the end they rowed, bitterly, and things were said that couldn't be unsaid and now they didn't speak.  
  
In response to being hurt Kimi did what Kimi does best; he gathered a crowd of people he knew, flew somewhere fun and spent a week getting drunk. The stories from Vegas filled the papers thick and fast, but Kimi didn't care because there was no record label, no Christian and no Anthony to tell him off. He slept on the ground cuddling a dolphin and he fell from a fountain and laughed at the bruises. Then he went one step further that even he'd gone before and after fucking Lola a few times he married her. Nine hours later she divorced him and sold her story about his inability to get it up and consummate their marriage. Kimi recalled her straddling his lap and pouring the tequila into his mouth and felt her criticism was a tad harsh.  
  
However he moved on and tried to forget. He was currently fucking Toni, his best friend and the person he could trust the most in the world outside of those he was related too. He wasn't sure if Toni had moved into his house or was just there a lot, either way he didn't really mind. He was enjoying life and didn't really know why Nico, or any of them, were always so fucking worried.  
  


*

  
The press conference had gone well. The tickets for the initial 14 nights had sold, as expected, within minutes.  _Extra_  nights (already long planned) were announced creating further hype and the tour quickly became the 25 night event they'd all planned for.  
Rehearsals were tough, they were all relatively fit, but the energetic (and cheesy) dance routines that they performed easily in their early twenties were tougher on the body. They were all stronger in personality and each and every one of them clashed with Christian, or Helmut, over some aspect of the show.  
  
"I'm not wearing that," To the surprise of the others it was Sebastian's voice, slightly higher pitched than normal, that was the first to show dissent.  
  
Sighing, fed up already of the bickering, Christian shrugged, "That's what has been chosen Sebastian."  
  
"Well I'm  _not_  wearing leather shorts. If the look we are going for is cheap rent boy then these would work, but these are  _not_  my look. I'm not wearing them."  
  
Even though Fernando agreed entirely with Sebastian's opinion he still burned with rage when Marko insisted the shorts were changed and chided the choreographer and costume maker; knowing that if he'd complained and not Seb the Austrian's response would have been so different.  
  
For three long months Christian refereed between them all over choreography, outfits, food, practical jokes and days off. Three months of biting his tongue and wondering why the fuck he'd bothered, why he thought it'd be a good idea and then they were there. They were at Wembley for the first night and as he watched the crowd fill up and the five settle into their usual pre-show routine he could only smile. The five boys were relaxing in strangely familiar ways; Jenson was chilling out, no different in the build up than normal. In previous years he'd relax with friends and family so watching him laugh and joke with Jessy and his children wasn't that different. Sebastian was battling with nerves. Sat in a corner he was going over the show plan, just as he always had. Slightly taller, less gangly and wearing a considerably more expensive watch the German hadn't changed. Listening to music Nico didn't look any different; relaxed and ready he was the calming influence on Fernando, who was as hyped as ever. Pacing and fretting about details, as well as going through an irritatingly thorough vocal warm up, only Nico's soothing hand calmed him. Kimi, as always, was asleep in a corner and Christian suddenly wished there were five Kimi's.  
---  
  
"Fuck! That was amazing!" Still sweaty and buzzing from the sheer high of the crowd going wild from them Nico's smile was wide and his eyes were bright.  
  
High, but cautious Fernando nodded, "It was. We need to sharpen the costume changes and I think we need to tweak...."  
  
Cut off by Nico's mouth landing on his, Fernando's hands instantly landed on the taller man's chest. Pulling away, loving the way Fernando's mouth instinctively tried to follow him, Nico smirked, "No analysis. Just revel in the fact that we did it. We had them all screaming for us  _again_."  
  
"We did, but there are...." Silenced by a finger Fernando frowned.  
  
"Nano. You can either stop talking, and worrying, about tweaks and you can make me scream like one of the fans..... or you can talk some more..." Pulling his t-shirt over his head and throwing it aside Nico raised an eyebrow in challenge.  
  
Taking a sharp breath, the way that Nico offered himself to him never failed to flip Fernando's stomach, the Spaniard nodded, trying to contain the urge to just bend Nico over then and there, "Get naked, and in the shower."  
  
"Yes Nano," Eyes darkening and hands moving quickly Nico was in the shower cubicle, comfortably large, in less than a minute.  
  
Taking his time, removing and folding his clothes, Fernando loved the sight of Nico waiting for him. The sheen of sweat still glistening on Nico's fair skin and his body tensed, waiting,  
  
Nico was like a sculpture in Fernando's opinion. Stepping into the cubicle, loving the way Nico's skin goosebumped as Fernando stepped close, "So beautiful."  
  
"Nano," His voice cracking, Nico gasped as the water was flicked on. Slightly too cold and then warming up nicely Nico's hands pressed hard on the wall. Feeling Fernando brush the sponge across his back he couldn't resist letting his forehead rest on the cool tiles.  
  
Circling the sponge down Nico's back, letting his finger nails drag down his back Fernando loved feeling of Nico's muscles quivering. There was also a sense of achievement, smugness almost, when he managed to reduce the taller man to a mess.  
  
Soaping up his fingers her washed Nico's cheeks slowly, smirking at Nico's instinctive need to bend his waist a little, pushing his arse into Fernando's hands. The noise that came from Nico as Fernando parted his cheeks and ran a soapy finger down could only be described as animalistic.  
  
Both of them high on the adrenaline from the gig it wasn't a night for slow, luxurious teasing so Fernando's finger quickly found its target, quickly pushed its way inside Nico; both of them groaning at the way Nico's muscles stretched and tensed around him. It wasn't long before Fernando's patient resolve was pushed to its limit and his slow stretching became quicker; his fingers pushed harder and twisted more wicked. Not patient enough to take Nico to bed he ran a soapy hand down his own length and pushed into him. Both of them groaning and moaning at the stretching, tight heat and the  _need_  for the other as they rocked towards the edge together.  
  


*

  
"On Saturday, he ate through one piece of chocolate cake, one ice-cream cone, one pickle, one slice of swiss cheese, one slice of salami, one lollipop, one piece of cherry pie, on cupcake and one slice of watermelon...... That night he had a stomach ache."  
  
Putting the book down, quietly, Jenson tucked the edge of the duvet around Jenna. Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead he walked out of the room after a brief glance into the cot shared by his two boys.  
  
"All asleep?" Sat on the sofa, glass of wine in hand, Jessy smiled softly.  
  
Nodding he flopped down next to her, resting his head in her lap, "I think it was the watermelon that did it...."  
  
"Jenson..." Laughing softly Jessy traced a finger along his cheek, "I swear you are worse than Jenna. I think she knows every word of that book."  
  
Feeling strangely melancholic Jenson sighed softly, "She's getting big."  
  
"That's what children do Jense."  
  
"I know."  
  
"What are you thinking?"  
  
Smiling, enjoying for the umpteenth time the fact that Jessy knew him so well, Jenson took a deep breath, "I think we should have another baby."  
  
"What?" Wide eyed and stunned Jessy put her glass down. She knew something had been bothering Jenson, but she had assumed it was related to the tour or the band. Not this.  
  
Sitting up, crossing his legs and facing his wife Jenson smiled, "I know it sounds crazy."  
  
"We have Jenna, and the boys..."  
  
"I know, and I adore them, but...." Faltering slightly a flicker of guilt passed over Jenson's face, "We've never done  _that_. Planned it..."  
  
Jenson always felt a stab of guilt when he looked at Jenna. He felt that, even though at the time she was she, she was just a tiny blob of cells, he had somehow betrayed her by the fact that he had driven Jessy to the clinic. He had agreed, perhaps even encouraged, when Jessy suggested it wasn't the right time for them to have a baby. They were too young, their lives were too hectic, they weren't ready; endless reasons, excuses, why it wasn't right.  
  
The moment he held Jenna in his arms and her tiny hand had grabbed at his finger Jenson felt his heart swell and he was eternally grateful they'd changed their minds. The twins were an extremely welcome contraception failure, but Jenson still felt like there was a part missing. That there was five of them when there should be six.  
  
"You've got the tour..."  
  
"I know," Taking Jessy's hand Jenson smiled, "That's only one more month. After that I've no worked planned apart from one night at the Brit Awards...."  
  
Threading her hand through Jenson's hair, something that always calmed him, Jessy smiled, "No big decisions to be made on tour, remember."  
  
"True... Think about it?" With pleading eyes, impressed at Jessy remembering the advice he had given Nico all those years ago, Jenson smiled.  
  
Shaking her head, and dropping a kiss on his forehead, "Promise. Come on, you are not as young as you once were. Let's go to bed."  
  
"Practise?"  
  
Laughing, Jessy allowed Jenson to carry her through to the second bedroom.  
  


*

  
Kimi celebrated the first successful night of the tour in his own inimitable way; vodka, Toni and a hotel room. He didn't need anything else. Sat on the balcony overlooking the grey London skyline he made a decision. First time around everyone, the other guys, their management, fans, newspapers and magazines all expected that he'd be the one; he'd be the guy to say 'I'm leaving'. Even when the announcement was made, when someone else said the words, everyone used the phrase 'after rumours about Kimi Raikkonen departing' in their stories about it.  
  
Looking back into the room, Toni's body being lit up by the moon and light pollution, he realised that he really didn't want to do it anymore. He'd had a solo career of sorts, basically he released a single when he wanted a new toy or got bored. He was bored the day Christian called him and asked him to join the tour so he'd said yes. However, now he really was bored. They didn't make music, not the music that he liked. They sang gimmicky songs and posed for posters that teenage girls with lots of disposable income plastered onto their walls.  
  
He'd had a good life thanks to the band, but now he was past it. Now he didn't want to part a teenager from thirty quid to listen to him sing shit music that he didn't care about and he didn't want to be in endless meetings where Fernando and Sebastian disagreed, even if it was purely for the sake of disagreeing.  
  
People would say he changed. When he said 'no' to extra  _extra_  dates and a greatest hits album and more appearances they'd say he'd changed. Or they'd say he'd moved on, but he hadn't. Kimi was still the same bloke who stumbled into a band that wasn't really him at all. He had simply got bored of trying to understand why the rest of them couldn't understand that they hadn't changed, not really. They were all the exact same people that they were on the very, very first day they'd met; despite their, and the record companies, attempts to be something different.  
  
Mostly he was bored of trying to work out why  _that_  was such a bad thing.  
  


*

  
Sebastian was on a high like the others. The adrenaline rush of performing, of hearing the crowd go wild, never changed. He bounced off stage and relished in the celebrations of Christian and Helmut. He posed for photographs and signed autographs until his hand hurt, all with a smile plastered on his face. Waving to the small crowed outside the hotel he looked like his cheeks would ache.  
  
Closing the door of his room his smile died instantly. Sebastian didn't have a Jessy waiting for him, or a Nico or even a Toni. Sebastian had an empty room because his wife wasn't there. Outwardly Sebastian had it all; band frontman, record label darling, beautiful wife, white picket fence and a pet dog, but in reality Sebastian had nothing.  
  
"It wouldn't be good for your reputation."  
  
"It'll damage your brand."  
  
"It's not right for you."  
  
Kicking his shoes under the table he sat on the edge of the bed and wondered how a life so perfect could go so wrong. His solo career had been amazing to the outside. He filled huge venues and sang songs that stuck in people's brains for hours after hearing them. His wife organised magazine shoots that showed off their stunning homes and added more zeros to the bank and they holidayed on his yacht that could travel so far even the most persistent of journalist couldn't find him.  
  
Then he put his foot down. After the reunion tour he was going to do his own solo tour and this time he was going to sing  _his_  songs. He cut his hair and he started wearing the occasional shirt just because he liked it. That's when it all went wrong.  
  
"We won't back this tour," Helmut's tone was firm, threatening almost.  
  
Shrugging Sebastian was adamant, "Fine. I'll self finance."  
  
"You cannot sing any Silvo songs."  
  
"I don't intend too."  
  
"We won't back this album idea..."  
  
She didn't like the idea of going against the record company. Another Silvo tour, a greatest hits album and more cheesy appearances on tv shows aimed at children and tweens would see more cash rolling in and her shoe collection could get bigger. Then the accusations flew, a more mature audience would see more women around Seb, give him more opportunities to look elsewhere and everything started to crack.  
  
Opening the brown envelope he wasn't surprised, but still found it shocking to see everything they had starting at him in black and white. A house in Switzerland, a house in Germany, a penthouse in London and the flat in New York. A fleet of cars each with their own individual values next to them and mementoes listed as if in a catalogue. Several items had stark crosses next to them, a blunt way of saying  _'I want this'_  and almost daring him to say  _'I want it too'_.  
  
Putting a cross next to the first gold disc, an ornament left to him by his grandmother and his songbook Seb put the sheets back in the envelope. If she wanted everything else she could have it. Half of the bank account would still see him set for life. Maybe once this tour was over he could actually start to live the life  _he_  wanted.  
  


*

  
The tour was a huge success. There was a clamour, a plea even, for them to put on more nights, but all five band members said no. The reunion wasn't a new beginning, it was a final ending and that was how it was to stay. After one month together on the road someone, no-one was quite sure who, decided it was a good idea to have a wrap party. As champagne and beer flowed conversations, naturally, turned to the highs and lows of their times together. Memories were invoked and stories were shared, for some the air was even cleared a bit as they all lounged around with the dancers, staff and roadies who'd served them so well.  
  
"You ok Nico?"  
  
Turning to see Kimi, his once arch nemesis, Nico nodded, "Fine."  
  
"You know," Sitting next to Nico, uninvited, Kimi's voice was kind, "He never loved me.  
Maybe he thought he did, but he never did."  
  
Biting his lip, hating any mention of the relationship Fernando and Kimi once had, Nico shrugged, "Nothing to do with me."  
  
"The first time I kissed Fernando...."  
  
"I don't really want to hear this."  
  
Making to stand up Nico frowned at Kimi's hand catching his arm, "Trust me, you do.... The first time I kissed Fernando was in Prague. We'd just done the last night there and we'd all been out to that bar, remember the one where the girl Jenson danced with turned out to be a stripper?"  
  
"I remember," Unable to stop it a laugh bubbled out of Nico at the memory of the look of shock on Jenson's face when he was presented with a bill at the end of the night.  
  
Taking a mouthful of drink Kimi shrugged, "Fernando basically cried on my shoulder that night. He was in love with a straight guy and he was doing that snivelling thing he does when someone gives him gin..... We sat for hours talking..."  
  
"Hours? Talking? You?" Raising an eyebrow Nico tilted his head.  
  
"Alright," Kimi laughed softly, "Fernando talked for hours, I listened. It was the first time he'd fully accepted he was gay. This guy basically appeared in his life and tilted everything on its axis and he didn't know how to handle it."  
  
"So he turned to you because he knew you liked guys?"  
  
"Exactly. I believe the phrase he used was 'greedy bastard'. When we kissed it was.... it was a bit like an experiment really. He wasn't sure if he could actually bring himself to do it."  
  
"Well, he did," Unable to hide the slight hint of bitterness Nico looked Kimi in the eye, "Why are you telling me this?"  
  
"I didn't know who it was at first. Not for a couple of months actually. One night we were in bed together. He raked his nails down my back as he came and he called me Nico..."  
  
Head flying up like someone had suddenly pulled, hard, on his hair Nico's eyes were wide, "What?"  
  
"We didn't know you were gay Nico," Pouring the stunned German another glass of wine Kimi smiled softly, "You were dating that tennis player at the time. Everyone thought you were straight."  
  
"Fernando was straight," Defensive, and still in shock, Nico took a gulp of wine.  
  
Laughing, kindly, Kimi sighed, "Fernando was the classic boy band member who the entire world knew would come out one day. You were different, you hid it well. You had too..."  
  
The acknowledgement from Kimi that Nico had had to stay secret, that he'd had to work harder and be more dedicated because he wasn't special like the others was something Nico hadn't realised he _needed_  until that moment. Resting his head on his hands he looked up at Kimi with tears in his eyes, "It was always me?"  
  
"It was always you Nico," Running a hand through the German's hair, catching the fiery look from Fernando across the room Kimi sighed softly, "You have him, you won't lose him because you've _always_  had him."  
  


*

  
Jenson hadn't had a solo career, he and Jessy were too busy with the children, but sat at the table in the corner with Christian the possibility was suddenly there. It was a cliché, but then again his whole career had been a cliché really. Posh guy in suit singing cheesy ballads worked wonders for Michael Buble so Christian could see no reason it wouldn't work for Jenson.  
  
The difference this time was that he wouldn't be singing for RBR, Christian was branching out on his own and Jenson would be his first signing. It was risky, it could flop, but if it was a success then he'd be more than set for life. He already had a nice house in a nice area surrounded by nice schools, but unlike the others he hadn't invested money; his family weren't set for generations like Seb's and he hadn't gambled big and won like Kimi. A solo tour would change all of that; private education for four children (or five taking into account the risk of a double twin thing) including university wouldn't even need thinking about. Starter houses, cars and help with things like weddings would be easy considerations.  
  
He'd have to talk to Jessy, Jenson signed nothing without discussing it with her, but for the first time in a long time he was excited professionally.  
  
"I didn't think I'd ever see the day you left RBR?"  
  
Putting his glass down after a long, slow sip of whisky Christian smiled, "Neither did I for a long time."  
  
"Why now?"  
  
"Life has changed," Alluding to the fact that he had a new relationship, something that RBR (and especially Helmut) didn't approve of, Christian sighed softly, "I feel like I've done everything I can with RBR. Four gold albums in a row is a huge achievement, I can't see me doing that again there."  
  
"You are always good at spotting talent though, you've not lost that," Jenson's words were not the sycophantic praise they all heard so often. They were genuine and warm.  
  
Smiling gratefully Christian nodded, "I haven't changed, but RBR haven't changed either. It's still the same. Dietrich bankrolls things and keeps himself at arms length. Helmut is his right hand man and he pretends to listen to everyone's opinions and then overrules things anyway. If I get my way over something and it doesn't work he's bleating in the press within minutes. If he doesn't like someone that is on our books he doesn't care that they are our guy he just badmouths them anyway and then tries to dress it up as  _inspiration_  or  _character building_. I've just had enough. I need a change."  
  
"I don't know how you didn't deck him years ago," Laughing, harder when Christian joined in, Jenson signalled the barman to bring them more whisky.  
  


*

  
"Mind if I?" Signalling to the empty seat next to Fernando Sebastian waited for a reply.  
  
Shrugging, Fernando moved over a little, "Do what you like."  
  
After Sebastian sat down the pair sat in silence for a few moments until the German had to break it, "You've never liked me, have you?"  
  
"You've never like me either."  
  
Shocked, stunned even, Sebastian turned to the Spaniard, "How can you say that?"  
  
"Because it's true," Voice dry and not looking at him Fernando shrugged, "You were always jealous."  
  
"You were the one jealous of me," Bitter, and angry, Sebastian launched a tirade at Fernando, "You blamed me because Helmut gave me the parts of the songs you wanted to sing. I could see you, rolling your eyes every time I made a mistake or we had to do a retake. Tutting if I gave an answer you thought was wrong in an interview. I didn't even want to sing your parts. Do you really think I wanted to do every single interview? Hmm? Spend all of my time relaying track after track after track instead of relaxing and having fun like you guys? That wasn't my fault. That was Helmut."  
  
"You could have said no, or left."  
  
"Left?" Apoplectic Sebastian's jaw hit the floor, "Are you kidding me? Who was going to leave Silvo? No-one was that stupid. It was a one-way ticket to financial security for life.  _You_  obviously didn't hate it that much or you'd have left."  
  
"Anyway, that isn't why you were jealous of me," Smug, and confident, Fernando turned to the blond, "You were jealous because of the night you walked in on me and Kimi...."  
  
Blushing bright red, his mind instantly taking him back to the tour bus on a cold and rainy night in November. They were dashing along a motorway somewhere between Glasgow and Manchester, piling onto the bus the minute they came off stage trying to make the tail end of a charity concert being put on by the BBC, and Sebastian had wandered through to the back of the bus.  
  
"Oh...." Stopping in his tracks he gulped hard at the sight of Fernando facing him, naked, bouncing himself up and down on Kimi's cock. Locking eyes with the Spaniard his feet felt like they were glued to the floor as he caught sight of Kimi, head tilted back, eyes close and look of sheer bliss on his face, before Fernando laughed at him and Sebastian fled.  
  
Shaking his head to get rid of the image of Fernando's rock hard cock bobbing up and down against his stomach Sebastian frowned, "That's not why I didn't like you."  
  
"Of course not," Smiling sarcastically Fernando sighed, "Go on then, enlighten me as to why it was."  
  
"It was because you made Nico cry...."  
  
"What?" Head shooting up like someone had tugged on his hair, hard, Fernando glared at the German, "What do you mean?"  
  
With a slight smug tone in his voice Sebastian recounted the tale of the night in America when Nico had spotted Fernando, on his knees sucking Kimi off, and had cried on Sebastian's shoulders.  
  
"Iiiii thought he lll llll lllikkked meeeeee bbbbut nnnn nnnn nnnow he's with Kimi 'gain...." Sobbing into his pillow in their shared room Nico was a mess.  
  
Having finally confided in his bandmates, after getting utterly sick of pretending, Nico was clearly, to everyone other than Fernando, in love with Fernando. Since the end of Fernando and Kimi's.... whatever it was they had going on, Fernando and Nico had grown closer and the German had believed he was in with a chance.  
  
They'd gone off to crack America. It was their biggest ever tour; 65 dates over 3 months and by the end of it they were all thoroughly sick of each other. There had been rows aplenty, including a drunken scuffle where Jenson had to be held back by Kimi when Seb had said something too far, and everyone had watched as Fernando and Nico had gotten closer and closer.  
  
"That.... I didn't know that?" Frowning Fernando wasn't convinced by Sebastian's words.  
  
Shaking his head at the blindness of the Spaniard Sebastian laughed, "Ask Chris, they even had a press release ready to deal with the firestorm in case you ever got your act together publicly!"  
  
"I didn't know," Quieter, Fernando looked at Sebastian as he told the rest of the story.  
  
Nico had cried in Seb's arms, wailing about how he was leaving the band because he simply couldn't bear it anymore. Recounting every time that Fernando had touched him, had given him hope of something between them and about how much his heart hurt seeing him with Kimi. By the time Nico had fallen asleep it had taken Seb, Jenson  _and_  Jessy to calm him down and convince him not to leave the next day.  
  
"Never make a big decision during a tour, that's what Jenson said to him," Sebastian, voice slightly kinder having seen the shock in Fernando's face, turned to the smaller man again, "I never disliked you Fernando. I agreed with you on most of the points you made about the music. What was I supposed to do? I tried that time and Marko shut me down. It was put up and shut up or leave?"  
  
Voice wobbly Fernando sighed, "I didn't really hate you either. I resented you - you had it all and it seemed you got it easy. I busked, and worked my arse off for the chance... Marko said that you were better, but you were always going to be better when you were given better chances. I did the best with what I was given, I  _couldn't_  do any better. Not without a better chance..."  
  
"I never disagreed with that. Don't you think I wanted it to be fair? Take  _'Down The Inside'_  I  **know**  I am better than you at that one. No-one else knows that though, they just think I got that the same way I got everything else. I can't make them listen to two recordings and have them say 'Yeah, you're right, you do that one better'. You might have been hard done by with the lesser chances you got, but it isn't all easy for me. No-one thinks I'm better than you at anything, because I've never been given a proper chance to be better than you."  
  
Laughing, very softly, Fernando took a deep breath, "I never really thought about it like that. I just saw you get the better chances and...." Shrugging he trailed off.  
  
"I guess we were both daft kids really. Hampered by bosses who didn't give us a fair shot at each other."  
  
"Truce?" Holding out his hand Fernando smiled when the German shook it.  
  
"Truce."  
  


*

  
Silvo never went on tour again as a band. After the huge success of the reunion they went their separate ways.  
  
Christian departed RBR as acrimoniously as he expected. Mud was slung in his direction, but he knew he was making the right call. Something had to change for RBR to be successful again and he knew that Helmut would never change so he knew he had to be the one. He didn't hold any grudge against them, they'd given him many happy years and he truly hoped that the young Australian they brought in would fire them to success again.  
  
Jenson had his solo tour, managed by Christian. He scored the Christmas number one two years running and was described by radio DJ's as 'the housewives favourite'. He managed to talk Jessy into baby number four and he beamed with pride the day baby John was born.  
  
He was considerably more sensible with his finances second time round, he invested money in stocks and shares like a proper grown up and by the time Jenna and her siblings were at school they were afforded an education Jenson could only have dreamed of. Jenson went into tv after 'retiring' and after spotting a young lad called Kevin on one of his shows he dabbled in management.  
  
Kimi never did change. He occasionally brought out a new single, usually shortly after crashing his boat or one of his cars, but he never went on tour. Toni eventually moved into his house officially, but they never married because Kimi labelled marriage as being for 'grown ups'.  
  
It would be years before people discovered that several young bands who made it big had been bankrolled by Kimi. Lots of people worldwide would express surprise that the Finn had made such a generous gesture, but those who knew him simply laughed because it was really very Kimi. He featured heavily in gossip magazines for many years, but the only time his former bandmates ever rang him to ask 'is it true' was when the story about him buying a vodka distillery appeared.  
  
Sebastian had his solo tour. People were stunned by the music he showcased and the critics, previously so fond of him, slated him for it. The magazines and newspapers openly made fun of him when they discovered he was playing in tiny venues in front of 50 or 100 people, but he loved every moment of it.  
  
He bleached his hair, wore clothes that he wanted (even if no one else liked them he did) and he sang music that meant something to him. He lost money on his tour, but to him it was the most successful moment of his career because he felt fulfilled and happy. His wife divorced him and took more than half of everything. For a long time he stayed happily single and then he met someone new. She wasn't a model and her tattoos were certainly unusual, but she loved Seb for who he was and he reciprocated. it wasn't the life anyone expected him to have and he loved every minute of it.  
  
Nico and Fernando talked long into the night after the final show. Both of them finally laying all of the demons to rest. Fernando went on another solo tour, playing to packed theatres and music halls and singing more of his own songs. His songwriting went from strength to strength and soon he was taking as much pleasure from hearing other people singing his words as he did from singing them himself. It was a strange day when he heard that Sebastian had finally charted as a solo artist and it was with a song Fernando had written for him, but it was strange in a good way. They'd never be close friends, but they had shared something.  
  
Nico didn't go on a solo tour. He briefly dabbled in being a tv presenter and enjoyed it, but it was after Silvo very final, last ever gig that Nico came into his own.  
  
In front of 500 people the band played together for the last time. The carefully chosen tracks, being the least hated of the five of them, have the guest an opportunity to boogie the night away. Stepping down from the stage Nico and Fernando only had eyes for each other, hardly surprising since it was their wedding reception.  
  
Fernando had got down on one knee on holiday in the Bahamas and finally the pair who'd hummed and hawed (and driven everyone demented for years!) had gotten engaged. The engagement was brief and the wedding, a bizarre mix of reserved Germans and crazy Spaniards, was fixed for just six months later. In a whirl of emotions, and various languages, they'd made their vows and caused a storm in the press.  
  
For Nico, the quietest of the band, his happiest place in life began when the surrogate gave birth. Their daughter, Ava, with her shock of black hair and blue eyes was the centre of their world and it was Nico who tended to her every need. Some of the newspapers, and internet forums, called him various names and made his choices sound weak, but looking after Ava and supporting Fernando achieve his dreams was Nico's calling in life and he couldn't be happier.  
  
It had taken them all years, they'd tried, failed and almost given up numerous times, but when Silvo - the friends - gathered together for Sebastian and Storm's wedding they were all happy, and yet none of them had changed.  
  
They'd just finally all found the confidence to be happy in themselves.  
---


End file.
